


Defrost

by velvetcadence



Category: Frozen (2013)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anna Elopes With Kristoff, Courtship, Domestic Hans, Elsa's Coronation Ball, F/M, Flirting, Guess Who Hans Goes For, Hans Being Prince Charming, Hans Is A Gossip, Hans POV, Hans Tries Too Hard tbh, Hans and Elsa are both Defrosting Ice Queens, His Mental Voice is Snarky AF, Loneliness, Marriage Proposal, Only One Eligible Sister Left, Or trying to, Royalty, Social Commentary, bam title drop
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-06
Updated: 2017-08-06
Packaged: 2018-12-11 22:29:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,347
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11723910
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/velvetcadence/pseuds/velvetcadence
Summary: Prince Hans of the Southern Isles schemes to win the heart of Arendelle’s young queen and secure himself a kingdom. He doesn’t expect to be won over instead.Or, Hans is Terrible and Manipulative, but it all works out for everyone involved.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I love Hans as a character? He's salty af but tries so hard to come off as sweet? What a fake ho. I love it.

In another life, Hans would not have hesitated to sweep Princess Anna off her girlish little feet.

In this life, however, Princess Anna is bedded and wedded (yes, in _that_ order), swelling with child and rosy-cheeked on the arm of her new husband. It was an enormous scandal when the news broke that Princess Anna had run away with some dirty iceman some months ago, following an argument with her older sister.

He often wondered what kind of person would throw away their birthright for a dalliance. It seemed the most idiotic thing a princess could do. Hans would know, he was nineteenth in line to the throne of the Southern Isles, after all his brothers, his nephews and nieces. (Twentieth after the end of the year, probably, with the new baby coming. That was a lot of people to murder if he wanted to practical about stealing the throne for himself.) He had a title to his name but little else—no land to inherit, and no great personal wealth to speak of. He was only the thirteenth son. Princess Anna meanwhile was the pampered and cherished spare to then-Princess Elsa’s heir. She could have lived out her days in luxury and comfort even without marrying if she had any sense. But no, she had to elope with a commoner. And have the audacity to come back with a bastard in her belly.

Queen Elsa had upturned the whole kingdom searching for her sister, and for those few months, Arendelle seemed to have an unseasonably long winter. The Arendellians breathed a sigh of relief when the Princess Anna returned and the snow melted, as if she had brought spring back with her.

Anna _was_ warm. Vivacious. _Joie de vivre_ wrapped in the guise of a girl.

But so incredibly silly.

Queen Elsa must have stolen from their mother’s womb all the tact Princess Anna seemed to lack. Hans would have stabbed a man to save himself from Princess Anna’s ceaseless chattering. He wonders if he would have survived for long in that other life where he courted Princess Anna. Between Elsa and Anna, Anna was the easier choice, but God’s blood, what would it have been like to be married to her?

For a moment, he pities Princess Anna’s husband. When the man married the princess, he had gained an honorary dukedom, but no title could stop him from looking uncomfortable and stiff in his formal clothes, like a pet monkey on display. There’s a wildness to him that no amount of pomade can smooth out, but he watches Princess Anna with tenderness in his gaze. Hans watches the queen watch the duke watch the princess with a thoughtful tilt of his head.

“Oh, this is a great song to dance to! It seems such a shame to let it pass without a partner,” Princess Anna hints with all the subtlety of a thrown rock. Hans indulges her.

“Now, that wouldn’t do at all, Your Highness! May I have the pleasure of this dance? If your husband permits?”

Princess Anna giggles and takes his offered hand. “Of course, Prince Hans. Kristoff doesn’t dance much, or well, it would be a kindness to him to let me dance with you.”

The duke laughs, but Hans sees the wince in his eyes. Oh, the innocence of Princess Anna!

Like a proper prince, Hans has been educated in all sorts of court entertainment, including dancing. The song the princess refers to is moderately-paced, appropriate music for a coronation ball, but Hans takes care to lead her in a slower dance. On her slight frame, her belly is unmistakable. In a quarter-year she will be positively gravid with child. Hans tries not to brush against her stomach as they dance.

“You dance beautifully, Princess Anna,” he says, and she sweetly replies, “Oh! Only because you lead so well, Prince Hans.”

“You must have been very adept at your lessons, princess. Your instructor must be proud.”

She blushes prettily. “The poor man had his feet stepped on for hours before I could get the hang of it.”

“Truly? I couldn’t tell at all, Princess Anna. You dance lighter than air.”

“You’re too kind, Hans. But really, you should see Elsa dance. Elsa’s good at everything.”

“I have no doubt of it. The queen seems as talented as she is beautiful. It’s only that...ah, never mind, princess. Please excuse me.”

Hans affects a bashful countenance, but only slight. Just enough to intrigue. She takes to it like a bloodhound on the scent.

“What is it, Hans?”

“No, no, it’s nothing, Princess Anna. It is silly.”

“We’re friends, aren’t we?” She says, “And friends tell each other things. You called my sister beautiful?”

Oh, this is too easy.

“Oh, I mustn’t. It’s terribly improper.”

Princess Anna gasps. “You must! Right this instant! Hans, please tell me?”

“Well...alright. But swear to me to keep it a secret. Do you believe in soulmates, Princess Anna?”

Anna of Arendelle, the princess who ran away for love, nods her head with the most serious air. “I do. Absolutely. When I met my Kristoff, I knew immediately that I would happily spend the rest of my life with him.”

God’s blood.

“I knew you would understand, Princess Anna, my dear friend. Your sister...she is…” Hans sighs, gives a rueful grin. Princess Anna visibly softens at this. She too idolizes her sister, and is a great romantic besides. “I would ask her for a dance if I had an inkling of a chance, but I am only the youngest brother of a king from a small kingdom. And she is a queen from a magnificent country, and too beautiful for the likes of me.”

“You are a _prince_ , Hans,” Princess Anna says fiercely, affronted at his self-effacing talk. “And you are handsome and kind and sweet and my sister would be a fool to turn you down.”

Yes!

“She has turned down all offers to dance tonight. Surely I will be rejected if I ask now.”

“You won’t, I’ll make sure of it.” A determined look crosses Princess Anna’s face. She hooks her arm over his and leads him away from the dance floor and near the dais, where Queen Elsa is speaking to their cousin, Princess Rapunzel of Corona.

“Hello, Elsa! Hi, Punzie,” Princess Anna chirps. Hans does a formal bow and tries not to fidget in embarrassment. “May I present Prince Hans of the Southern Isles?”

“Good evening, Your Majesty,” Hans greets, recovering his composure. He bows to Princess Rapunzel as well. “Your Highness.”

“Good evening, Prince Hans,” Queen Elsa politely greets. “I do hope you’re enjoying the ball.”

“He’s a wonderful dancer, Elsa,” Princess Anna enthuses. “He never lets on whenever I step on him.”

“A wonderful quality to have in a partner. I’m glad you’re having fun.” Queen Elsa agrees genially.

“You should have a little fun too. It would be lovely to see you dance. And I assure you, Hans is very patient.”

Queen Elsa looks a little alarmed. Hans is too. He’s not sure who to look at. He settles for Princess Rapunzel, who looks very amused by the whole thing.

“Please, sweet sister? The baby tires me. Give me at least the satisfaction of watching you, or I’ll have to go back and dance again.”

Queen Elsa takes a moment to think about it. Hans thinks she’ll refuse, like all the other times tonight. To his surprise, she gives her untouched wineglass to her attendant. She unclasps the cape from her shoulders, and another attendant drapes it over his arm. Queen Elsa is a sober, chilly woman, and it takes nothing less than her sister to thaw her out. Interesting.

“Oh, very well. Prince Hans?”

“It would be my pleasure.” He bows again and offers his arm to her. When he looks back to glance at Princess Anna, he shoots her a grin. To her it would seem the smile of a man who has been given the chance for the love of his life. The sparkle in his eyes would speak unbearable joy. But in truth, it is the smile of a man who has simply played the foolish heart of a princess like a fiddle, and the glint in his eyes is that of a player who is advancing the board.


	2. Chapter 2

The queen really is quite beautiful up close. Her skin is so pale it is almost translucent, and her hair is so fair it looks white in some lights. It almost hurts to look at her—like looking at the sun bouncing off snow. And her eyes glow so very blue.

Well, Hans is only a man. He’s half in love with her already. The tricky part is to get _her_ to fall in love with _him_.

Despite Princess Anna’s recommendations, Queen Elsa is not a good dancer after all. She feels like wood under his hands. He has to think quickly—he only has a few minutes to draw her out before she’ll find some perfectly valid excuse to flee his company.

“You have a lovely kingdom, Your Majesty.”

“Thank you, Prince Hans.”

“Princess Anna tells me the view is her favorite in the summer, when she sweeps her gaze from the snowy mountains to the blue of the sea.”

“Anna does love the summer. Her birthday passed just last month.”

“Did you have a ball? Like this one?”

“We had a festival in the town square.” Her eyes seem to sparkle at the memory. “She danced the whole day.”

Hans is starting to see a pattern here. If one wants to talk to either royal sister, one must only fawn over the other.

“She comes across as a very joyful person. Like someone who lights up the room just by being there.”

“She does! I’m so glad you see it too.”

Elsa smiles. Hans smiles back, and tries to calm his racing heart. Oh, he really is only a man. And she is undoubtedly the most beautiful woman in the room.

“You are a good sister to her.”

“You’re too kind.”

The next step is a gamble. If she receives it well, he’ll garner her sympathy and appeal to her tender, womanly instincts. If she doesn’t, he will appear unsuitable, wimpish and unattractive.

Hans cycles through several statements:

If I ran away, my brothers would—no, better not start with an allusion to Princess Anna’s elopement.

If I had a sister like you—not that either, any statement of familial bonds between them would kill any romance.

“Three of my brothers once pretended I didn’t exist for two years.”

The statement startles her. She blinks up at him, doe eyes wide. He’s suddenly painfully aware of how young she is—twenty-one, unmarried, newly crowned, and until now cloistered inside the palace like a secret if the gossip was to be believed.

“Why on earth would they do that?”

“I don’t know. I was seven and it was very upsetting. So please believe me when I say that you’re a good sister to her.”

The song transitions to another seamlessly, and Hans wonders if anyone’s noticed. There’s a cold draft coming in from somewhere.

“You’re much too kind, Prince Hans. Anna and I...weren’t always this close. But I am trying my best.”

“Your best is enough, Your Majesty. It’s all anyone can really ask of you.”

“Thank you. Oh my goodness, is that Anna with the Duke of Weselton?”

Hans turns his head to watch as the duke’s toupee flaps about while he peacocks at the princess. Elsa mouths a ‘sorry’ at her sister’s misfortune. They try and fail not to laugh.

Queen Elsa turns her beautiful eyes up at him once more. “And what of you, Your Highness? What does anyone ask of _you_?”

She’s softening under his hands, not so stiff, and actively engaging him in conversation. Hans hopes his good luck lasts. He gives her a playful grin and she tilts her head in bemusement. He is about to do something no woman has ever resisted before.

“Well, for now, Her Majesty the queen has asked me to dance, and so I shall.”

He times it perfectly to the music, and when the dance calls for a spin, he grabs her by the waist and lifts her up. Her skirts swish heavily around her ankles and brush against his shins. Goodness, how little she weighs! He’s lifted barrels much heavier than her twice over.

It only takes a moment to perform the lift, but it’s enough. He’s demonstrated the strength of his arms. The surprise will make her heart quicken, her skin flush. She will feel relief at being back on the ground but remember the feeling of being weightless for a moment, the capable hands of a man steady on her body. There are so many handsome young men here tonight, but no one else will have the audacity to lay his hands on the queen.

He hears her soft gasp, and her mouth is shaped in a very small ‘O’. He doesn’t allow her to pull away, or ponder an escape, putting his hand on the small on her back and holding her other hand in the proper waltz position. She will feel exhilarated at his boldness, and intrigued at the glimpse of the rogue she has seen under the perfectly controlled, patient exterior.

And then he will pull back, and be as well-mannered as before. She will wonder: was what I saw a conjuring? She will ask: how may I draw that out again?

She will think: my god, that is a man I want.

 

The thing about women is that the less you seem to care about them, the more they like you. You can’t look like you need them, or they will dismiss you. It is an eternal paradox.

Hans is very good at not caring about people. He is also very good at acting.

The queen sends him furtive glances throughout the night. He only notices because he’s looking for it. After his dance with Queen Elsa, he had bowed low to thank her for the dance and kissed the air above her knuckles. He wished her dress wasn’t so modest, or that her hands weren't gloved. He could feel how cold her hands were even through the material. Perhaps she had a condition? Poor circulation?

The other lads at the party his age are either dukes, sons of dukes or lower nobility. He is the only eligible prince in his rank. The only other prince is Prince Eugene, who is married to Princess Rapunzel of Corona. Hans lets himself be drawn into small talk by the refreshment table, and every time he catches the queen’s eye, he adds a bit of warmth to his smile. It makes the ladies beside him nearly swoon.

He knows he’s handsome. The dancing has brightened his eyes and made his skin flush with exertion. The warmth from his skin will enhance his perfume. His hair will artfully fall out of its coif _just so._ The question is: has the queen been made aware of it?

 

Princess Anna sidles up to him a little later, a pleased curl to her lips.

“I take it you enjoyed your dancing, Hans?”

“You are a very meddlesome friend, Princess Anna,” he mock-scolds. She bursts into peals of laughter that, for a moment, redeem what an annoyance she truly is.

“Am I to hear wedding bells soon?”

“I would propose to her tonight if I could. But she can’t marry a man she just met. It would be improper.”

She crosses her arms thoughtfully. “You and Elsa are so alike. Always so obsessed about what’s proper or not.”

“It’s our birthright.”

“Then why am I not like that?”

“Because you are—” stupid, ignorant, ill-mannered, “a beautiful exception to every rule, Princess Anna.”

“Oh, Hans, you flatterer.”

“Come, let me escort you back to your husband. See, he has brought a chair.”

“Have you tried the fondue? It’s tradition to have plum pudding at royal events. That was my father’s favorite. But for Elsa’s coronation, I requested to have chocolate fondue because it’s our favorite.”

“She loves chocolate? What kind?”

“There’s a chocolatier in town that makes the best ones with the caramel centers. Elsa hates nuts in her chocolate though. Oh! But if you had to give her a gift, flowers would be great. Or a book. She loves books. She is always reading.”

“Is that so?”

“She practically lives in the library! When we were small, our parents thought Elsa was stolen away from her bed, like our cousin was when she was a baby, but it turns out Elsa was just hiding in the library. She had made a little cocoon in the space between the love seat and the window, which is why they couldn’t find her immediately. Sometimes I still find her like that, in the same spot. Oh, but I probably shouldn’t have said that.”

“That’s...I beg your pardon. That’s adorable.”

“Elsa’s not actually one for dancing in public. She embarrasses easily, and she never forgets her mistakes. By the way, did you notice you danced through three songs? I asked the musicians for a favor, isn’t that clever?”

Oh. Pure, sweet Anna, who was too much of a romantic for her own good.

“I’ve never seen Elsa so cute with a suitor before. Not that she’s had many, mind, what with the gates closed and all when our parents died. But you’re different from the others. I think she likes you.”

“Please don’t raise my hopes, Princess Anna.” But please tell me more.

“Love is serious business, I’d never lie about this!”

For once in the entire conversation, Duke Kristoff chimes in. “Maybe we need advice from love experts.”

“Oh, good idea!”

“Love experts?” Hans dares to ask.

“Kristoff’s family is very wise,” Princess Anna only says. “We wouldn’t be so happily married without their help.”

Hans is unsurprised that Kristoff’s family would support him seducing the princess of the land. Marrying royalty is a very lucrative business, after all. He can’t really blame them if Anna was stupid enough to fall for it.

“I shall keep that under advisement.”


	3. Chapter 3

Queen Elsa keeps a very busy schedule following her coronation. Representatives of the dukedoms and nearby kingdoms have come to renew trade policies and treaties with Arendelle. Hans himself comes as the voice for the Southern Isles. (It had only taken a bit of meddling to keep his other eligible brothers out of the running...just a little bribing and whispering, here and there.) He is impressed by the queen’s steady nature, her clear head and her pragmatism. Of course, with her beauty, all the men are falling all over themselves to amaze her, him included. They are painfully aware of her eligibility...and the size of her kingdom’s coffers.

Hans would try to court her with gifts and flowers, but Queen Elsa strikes him as too practical to let any of those win her heart alone.

He wanders the castle gardens, staring thoughtfully at the flowers. The servants passing by would see what a visual he strikes; then, they would gossip about him, the handsome prince from the Southern Isles, come all the way to catch the queen’s heart. They know they danced together at the ball, the _only man_ she danced with at the ball. They know he told Anna he would propose in a heartbeat. The servants would gossip at the town, the townsfolk would gossip amongst themselves, and the travelers would hear about it and spread the whispers. Hans will use that infamy to be close to the people of Arendelle. If they love him, even just the _idea_ of him, then they would support his suit for Elsa.

Thus far, Hans’ collection of Queen Elsa’s weaknesses are as follows: her sister, her people, books, chocolate fondue.

Also: her loneliness.

Hans sees the yearning in her whenever Princess Anna and her husband display their tender affection with each other. When they hold hands, Queen Elsa looks down and clasps her fingers together. When they kiss, she looks away as if she could not bear it.

It is not so strange to see her so far apart from everyone else. She is a queen, she _should_ be held apart and above everyone in the kingdom. But she is also just a girl, really, an untested woman. And what she does not know, she would naturally be afraid of it.

Hans has already rallied Princess Anna to his cause, and by extension her husband Duke Kristoff, who most of the time doesn’t know what to make of Hans. Familiarizing the Arendellians to him would take time. He would need to be seen with some frequency in town, and with trade negotiations still thick, he may not be able to have the time. But the castle library is open to any of the guests, and Hans has charmed the queen’s routine from one of her maids. He will go tonight, and see if the little nook Princess Anna speaks of between the love seat and the window is true.

 

Hans is in the middle of a book about Arendellian laws (specifically, marriage laws) when the library door creaks open and a pale waif creeps inside.

Queen Elsa freezes when she spots him, as if she has entered his territory when by all rights, the space is hers. She clears her throat, and her body rearranges itself, like a dancer about to perform. Her back straightens, her hands clasp demurely in front of her. The tilt of her head is properly regal. It is so fascinating to watch as the girl transforms into the queen. “Good evening, Prince Hans.”

He gets up immediately and bows. “Good evening, Your Majesty. I can go if you would like some privacy.”

“No, no. It’s alright. Please, stay. I was the one who interrupted.”

“I can light a fire if you like.”

“Please don’t trouble yourself, the cold never bothered me anyway.”

Hans casually sets aside the law book on a side table and replaces it with a lighter read on naval expeditions while her back is turned.

He feels painfully aware of her presence. Every movement of her stirs the air in this silent night, and the swish of her skirts and the tap of her step distracts him until she settles on the loveseat by the window. She looks like a picture, sitting prim, her feet girlishly tucked away under her skirts.

Hans breaks the silence after a quarter-hour, making his voice low so that it blends in rather than cuts through the quiet. “I could have a servant bring us tea, Your Majesty.”

“Thank you for offering. But I try not to before bed.”

Frigid, Hans thinks.

“Hot chocolate?”

A page turns. She looks up. There is only a little change in her face, a slight widening of the eyes, but Hans has been studying her since he arrived here, so he knows that she is surprised. Delighted, perhaps?

“It’s late, I’m sure the servants are asleep,” she gently demurrs.

“I’ll make you a cup.”

“That’s…”

“It would bring me great pleasure, my queen. I’m craving some chocolate myself.”

He offers his arm gallantly and she takes it, her touch barely a weight on his arm. She’s wearing gloves again, and the brief press of his hand on her fingers makes him shiver.

“I had not expected you to know how to cook, Prince Hans.”

“I’m of the belief that a man must know essential skills if he is to forge his own path in life.”

“And what other skills do you personally consider necessary?”

“Well, there’s sewing, riding, seafaring, trade…”

“Have you travelled much?”

“A great deal. After my seventeenth birthday--"

_I ran away_

"--I apprenticed under a merchant. We sailed to every known corner of the earth. No one on deck knew I was a prince, so I had to learn very quickly how to be my own servant.”

“I’ve never been outside of Arendelle,” the queen confesses. “I hear it is very beautiful.”

“When you leave home, it is an adventure,” Hans agrees. “But the journey is tiring and it is easy to be homesick if you are far away. If I lived in Arendelle, I would not want to leave it.”

“Is that so?”

“Arendelle is a beautiful country. The people are friendly, the streets are safe, and the food is delicious.”

“It snows half the year.”

“Even the snow here is beautiful. And I hear the queen is just and good.”

“Have you now?”

“She is a quiet person, but it is because she is careful and reflective. And perhaps a bit shy.”

“Shy?”

“Yes, shy,” Hans smiles. He hopes it doesn’t come across as patronizing. “But if you are a good friend to her, she opens up very easily. She is quick-witted, sweet, and the best sister in the entire kingdom.”

“Prince Hans, you are far too charming.”

“I am only truthful. Forgive me if I seem forward.”

A beat. In an even tone, she says, “You are forgiven.”

It startles a laugh out of Hans. She has moments of sarcasm under all that cultivated sweetness. He likes that.

“Ah, here we are. The kitchens.” He bets she has never stepped foot in this room her whole life. It is not proper for a princess, much less a queen. “Please sit, my queen, while your humble servant prepares your royal chocolate.” He bows exaggeratedly and leads her to a table set tucked into the corner.

She giggles at his antics, and the sound makes him smile.

Right, then. A saucepan, a spoon, milk, and then the chocolates. Hans removes his gloves and busies himself immediately while the queen watches, her eyes aglow in the candlelight. Soon enough, the rich smell permeates the room, and Queen Elsa tucks her hands under her chin. There is a curl on her lips not unlike Princess Anna’s. They have the same shape of the face, the same deep set eyes, the same cute upturned nose. Hans hopes his own daughters turn out as lovely.

He pours the hot chocolate on a carafe, and sets a tray with cups and a plate of biscuits he found in the cupboard. He presents this to Queen Elsa, who takes one of the delicate cups in her dainty hands and takes a small sip. Everything about her is so demure and controlled, really, he should feel like a cad. (He doesn't.) Hans watches her hungrily, and the blush that bursts on her cheeks when she catches him looking satisfies him.

“I’m very impressed.”

“I live to serve.”

She’s right; the hot chocolate is creamy and delicious. If he kissed her right now, she would taste the same.

“Once we finish the treaties...what are your plans? Are you going to travel again?”

Hans looks at her face, at her cracking veneer of graciousness and decides that now is the time to present his suit.

“I was hoping to settle down somewhere beautiful. Where the people are nice and the streets are safe.”

“Oh?”

“I find myself in want of a partner who will take care of me and who I can care for in return. Someone who will sit with me while we read and who I can make hot chocolate for at night.”

Her breath quickens. They lean very close together.

“I wish for someone gentle. Sweet. Who will be a good mother as she is a sister.”

“Oh...”

“Elsa,” Hans says, and he takes her hand and presses a kiss to her gloved palm. “My heart is yours. I have fallen so deeply for you. Please accept my wish to court you, to show you that I can be a good husband to you.”

“I haven’t even known you for a fortnight.” Her voice is barely a whisper.

“That is easily remedied, dearest. We have time to learn about each other.”

“I am still learning to be queen.”

“I would help you. I’m educated, cultured and well-versed in trade.”

“I am...inexperienced...in the affairs of men and women.”

“That is no matter. I would teach you.”

“My family…”

“Would want to see you be happy. Are you happy with me, Elsa?”

“You are...a very handsome prince.”

“Do you think me kind? Capable?”

“Yes…”

“Could you grow to love me as I have grown to love you?”

“Can you love a monster?”

“What?”

There is such sweet desperation in her face. “If I showed you my true self, could you still find it in your heart to love me?”

“What do you mean?”

Instead of speaking, Elsa removes her gloves. He is struck speechless at the sight of her lily-white hands. When she gestures in the air, a flurry of snow dances between them. His cup, when he looks down at it, is frozen solid.

Well. That’s.

Unexpected.

 

The cup unfreezes with a wave of her hand. Immediately after, she replaces her gloves. Hans is still struck dumb, rearranging all the puzzle pieces in his head until they form a whole picture.

“How long have you been able to do that?”

“Since birth,” she confesses miserably. “My parents made sure to keep it a secret. I hurt Anna with it when we were younger, and thus far I’ve tried my best to keep it under control. But the ice...it emerges, when I’m afraid or angry. I thought it safer for everyone if I stayed away.”

“You are very guarded,” Hans concedes. “But I think I understand now. Oh, Elsa, how lonely you must have been.”

“It’s my burden to carry.”

“Princess Anna knows?”

“Yes, and Kristoff. But that is a story for another time. All you must know is that Anna is the key to thawing my frozen heart.”

Hans covers her hands, encases them in his larger grip. He hopes she feels the warmth through her gloves. “I hope you can find space in your heart for me as well.”

“Why? Why are you still here?”

“I told you, Elsa, I want to be a husband to you. And in marriage, a man protects and serves his wife, accepting her faults and strengths equally.”

“What if I am an incapable wife? What if I hurt the ones I love?”

“You will hurt them most if you keep your distance. Let me in, Elsa. Open the door.”

The queen removes her gloves, and their hands touch skin to skin.

Their first kiss tastes like chocolate.


	4. Chapter 4

Hans endears himself to the people. He walks Arendelle’s cobbled roads in his spare time. He escorts Princess Anna to the marketplace that she finds so delightful. He sits in on the queen’s hearings, studies their laws and history; he speaks with the merchants, the sailors, the fishermen, the icemen, the dressmakers. He adjusts to the rhythm of Arendellian life.

Elsa is queen, and if he is to be prince consort, he has to hone himself like a blade. No one else must come close to his level of eligibility. Until he has a ring on her finger, a crown on his head and a baby in her belly, his position in Arendelle is precarious.

Princess Anna finds it all very romantic.

She’s as plump as he’s ever seen her, the very picture of fecundity and joy, and she paints a funny picture alongside her mountain of a husband. Hans patiently lets her hold his hand to her stomach when the baby kicks.

“Oh! Did you feel that, Uncle Hans? That was a big one!” She has taken to calling him Uncle Hans whenever the baby comes up. He’s long since stopped correcting her that he and Elsa are hardly betrothed, only courting.

“Hello, little niece. Or nephew.”

“Niece,” Anna says.

“Nephew,” Kristoff says.

“Ow,” Anna winces, clutching her middle. Both men rise to their feet in alarm.

“Anna!”

“Are you alright?”

“I’m fine, I’m fine— _wow,_ I am _not_ fine. Wow, _damn_. Kristoff, the baby!”

Before the duke can start panicking, Hans puts a steady hand on his shoulder. “Bring her to her rooms. I’ll fetch the midwife.”

 

The whole castle turns itself upside down the moment word gets around that Princess Anna is in labor. When Hans had gone to get Elsa, the room had chilled to a degree that even the floor and the ceiling frosted over.

Hans had tucked her against him, pressed so close together in the way she always craves, so starved for touch after thirteen years of isolation. “Hush, darling, hush. Be still. Be calm.”

“Hans, what if something happens?”

“Nothing will happen. The best doctors are attending to your sister. And Anna is in the peak of health,” he reassured. He breathed with her until she calmed.

She sighed an icy breath, and the frost faded into the ether. Hans had suppressed a shiver. “I have to go to her.”

“I’ll bring you there.”

“Hans,” Elsa murmured, and she cupped his face, kissed the corner of his mouth. “Thank you.”

 

Hans had not been allowed inside the birthing chamber, so instead he oversees that the midwife and her attendants are given everything they need. He instructs the kitchens to work over the night, for the maids to prepare the nursery, and for Elsa’s attendants to ready a bath the moment she emerges from Anna's rooms.

He feels in his very element delegating tasks in the queen’s castle, and is pleased with how seamlessly things are going.

The princess is born squalling and wailing in the middle of the night, just before dawn. Anna cries with her, as does Kristoff, Hans is told, and the doors open as servants carry towels, water and pans of dubious nature outside.

Hans pokes his head through the door, just to peek at how the new family is doing. He feels a sense of loss as he watches Elsa stroke her sister’s forehead, as Kristoff holds the baby to Anna’s bosom. He doesn’t belong here, so he goes down to the kitchens where the cooks indulge him with gossip and a very early breakfast. He sends the servants to bring a meal to Anna and Elsa’s rooms, and then he retires to his own.

He’s not sure why his heart hurts. But there’s nothing a glass of wine can’t alleviate.

When he next wakes, there’s snowfall outside. Hans shaves his face and changes his clothes. The castle is quiet after the stress of the night, and Hans finds himself walking to the nursery, curious to see the new princess of Arendelle.

There are two guards posted at the door, and another one by the window inside the room. There is a small cot in the corner for the wetnurse. They watch him as he picks the baby up and settles her in the crook of his arm.

She’s ugly, to be honest. All babies are right after birth. Hans knows this with conviction; he has eight nieces and nephews.

She barely weighs anything, so small and so pink, her little mouth open as she sleeps. There’s a shock of blond fuzz on her head. Like a little troll, he thinks affectionately. This is the baby that has been kicking his hand through Anna’s belly for the last five months.

He wonders what she’s like, if she’ll grow up with a happy childhood or be stricken with tragedy the way royalty seem to be prone to. He wonders if he’ll even be around long enough to see her grow up. He and Elsa have grown much closer since the coronation ball, but until the ink on the marriage contract is dried, he cannot guarantee himself a place in this little family.

He wants to stay. He really does. He’s fallen in love with Arendelle the way he’s fallen in love with Elsa. It may have started with a scheme and a plan to bewitch the queen, but he had been bewitched in turn, struck in the soft spots that he’d kept guarded until now.

The door creaks as it admits Elsa inside. Hans makes a mental note to have the hinges on all the doors oiled.

“Hey,” she greets.

“Hello,” Hans murmurs. Elsa’s hair is draped in a braid over her left shoulder. Her gown today is simple, in a lavender shade that makes the rest of her look soft and pure. The pang in his heart returns.

“Anna and Kristoff are resting right now. I just wanted to check on the baby.”

“She sleeps like an angel,” Hans says, and a curl of his hair flops over his eye. He leaves it be.

Elsa is looking at him with a searching gaze. “What’s wrong?” She touches the corner of his downturned lips.

How could he even begin to explain the hurt he’d been nursing since childhood? The grief for something he’d barely even known?

"It's nothing."

"Hans." The rebuke is gentle. He tries and fails to soften the grim line of his mouth in turn.

“I just realized that she has a family who will always love her. That she will always belong somewhere, and to someone.”

“She will.”

“That she’s wanted.” His voice is rough when he confesses, “I want to belong somewhere too. I want what she has.”

He doesn’t say: I have worked so hard to have a place in this world.

He doesn’t say: I am an orphan and I don’t feel like I can truly belong anywhere.

He doesn’t say: _You_ are the family I want.

She understands anyway. It has been five months of learning and opening doors to each other. Of airing out ghosts. Of letting love flourish in quiet companionship. Of course Elsa would understand.

“Oh, Hans,” her smile is upset, watery. She hates not noticing that he'd been so anxious about this whole thing, but it isn't her fault. Hans hadn't let her see until now. “You already _do_ belong to Arendelle. My heart is yours. Please accept my hand in marriage.”

 

And they lived happily ever after.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Literally this whole fic has been:  
> step 1: seduce the queen through my fancy dancing  
> step 2: make a powerpoint for reasons why she should date me  
> step 3: accidentally catch feelings  
> step 4: ???  
> step 5: PROFIT!!!
> 
> Please leave a comment, I'm so thirsty for validation.


End file.
